Please Don't Beat The Hybrids
by NykGrimm
Summary: Rewrite. Ichigo's a hybrid left behind in a fight. Grimmjow's the doctor that finds him. What will become of the two?


Please Don't Beat The Hybrids

* * *

Blood splattered to the ground as a final blow was delivered. Screams flew through the air. Screams of pain. Screams to run. All of it soon washed away as the rain poured down in an attempt to cleanse the violence, only unable to wash away the battered and unconscious body left behind. Water gently caressing the jagged edges of flesh.

Hours passed before anyone walked by, the young man only barely noticeable through the heavy rain due to his rather brightly colored tresses. Knowing it would take too long for an ambulance to arrive and that they would charge somebody for it, he carefully rolled him over, checking for any sign that he shouldn't be moved before carefully picking him up. His apartment wasn't too far and he could probably take better care of him there anyways. Not that he was allowed back into the hospital for a while...

Retrieving his keys and opening the door had been rather difficult, but once inside he carefully placed the stranger onto his pullout couch before fetching the medical supplies he kept stashed around. There was a lot of blood though it didn't all seem to be his own, and while several gashes and bruises presented themselves, the worst of it seemed to be the rather large dent in the young man's head, right below the rather cute looking cat ears he'd missed in the dark outside. Hopefully he didn't have a concussion.

Rolling up his sleeves, he quickly cleaned, stitched, and patched everything up, setting the ibuprofen nearby. Tossing the gloves he'd been wearing into the garbage he quickly grabbed a shower before heading off to sleep himself. It had been a long day and he could definitely use the rest. A familiar ball of fur curled up next to him as he settled under the sheets on his bed, purring at the loving attention he gave her before they both drifted off to sleep.

A loud crash woke him the next morning, the ball of fluff sitting next to him jolting awake and hissing. Groaning, he stroked her fur in an attempt to calm her before getting up to see what was happening.

The hybrid he had brought back with him had fallen to the ground in fear and surprise, not knowing where he was or why. Deep chocolate eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on the very hot boxer clad man that had come from down the hallway. A sigh escaped the man's lips as he made his way to help the young man back up onto the bed.

He tried to move away as the stranger started poking and prodding at some of the wounds littering his body.

"Hold still," he grumbled, replacing some of the bandages, checking his head wound last. "You'll tear something open."

The young man's ears flattened in displeasure, his head throbbing more as this stranger lifted the bandage he hadn't noticed to poke at yet another wound. He batted at his hands only to have them pushed away so he could work. Replacing the bandage he stuck a finger in the orange haired young man's face, asking him to follow it. "Are you having any trouble focusing? Feeling irritated for no reason? Nauseous, drowsy, dizzy?"

Scowling he batted his hand away. "Who are you?" He demanded. "And where am I?"

Rolling his eyes, the gorgeous stranger replied, "I'm a doctor and you're at my place. Now answer the damn questions so I know whether or not you're dying."

His scowl deepening, tail flicking around in irritation the young man said, "I'm fine other than the pounding in my head."

He just let out a short hum in response, staring at him for a long moment before tossing the bottle of ibuprofen at him. It was early but he was awake and his cat probably wanted to be fed. So, still clad in nothing but his underwear, he ambled into the kitchen, a wet plop coming from the bowl he had dumped a can of tuna into. Immediately the black ball of fur he called a cat came running in to devour the processed fish.

Scratching the back of his head and yawning, he called out from the kitchen, "Do you want anything?"

The still very confused and somewhat pissed of young man just continued to scowl in his general direction. He still had no answers from this extremely hot, somewhat strange teal haired rescuer. But as he pondered making an escape back home, he came to realize he didn't exactly know where home was, or even whom he shared it with.

"Oi," the teal haired man called again, this time looking in from the kitchen. "I asked if you wanted anything." Met with only a glower in return he replied, "If you don't want to tell me that's fine, I can just leave you a bowl of tuna like I did for Poptart here," as he pointed at the cat eagerly devouring the meal in front of her.

His expression grew darker, a low growl tearing from his throat, ears turned back in irritation as the fact that the teal haired Adonis had a cat named Poptart went right over his head. "I don't even know who you are, why should I trust anything you give me?"

"Because I'm the guy with the medical supplies to keep you from bleeding out. Plus the pills and IV's to keep you out cold should I feel so inclined," he waved it off, grabbing a pan and a few other supplies for making breakfast.

"Couldn't I get those at a hospital, where I know for sure they're not going to keep me around for their own sick pleasure?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but they've got me on forced vacation, so I figured I'd take one less paycheck from them. Unless you really want to head over there and spend a couple thousand on shit you could find at most convenience stores."

"You have a strange sense of revenge," he muttered. "Do I at least get a name?"

"Depends, you gonna give me yours?"

He was about to snap back at him when he realized he didn't know his name. He had no idea where he lived, who he lived with, or what his name was. What the fuck _did_ he know? And what the fuck was wrong with him.

"As reassuring as that silence is, I can't give you my name if you can't give me yours. It's not good manners."

The young man sighed in frustration, patting himself down to look for any sort of identification he had on him. After all, you had to be stupid to go anywhere without your wallet and such. Realizing that whatever he was wearing had no pockets he glanced down to find he was wearing clothes several sizes too large. "What the fuck did you do with my clothes?" he howled, realizing he'd been stripped and changed. Seen naked.

"Garbage," he shrugged, returning to the living room with two platefuls of food, handing one to the young hybrid. "Now stop fidgeting. You'll tear out your stitches."

"You threw my clothes out?" he asked indignantly, hackles raised. Who did this guy think he was?

"You mean the blood soaked rags that were hanging off you last night? Yeah. Sorry for assuming you didn't like looking like Tarzan, but I'd rather not have blood stains in everything," he rolled his eyes. "Your wallet, however, is sitting on that coffee table behind you," he motioned, mouth full of food.

Quickly glancing behind him, the orange haired young man flinched at the pain before gingerly picking up the wallet. Flipping it open, he found what he was assuming was his own face staring back at him, Kurosaki Ichigo, 23, printed neatly in small black letters next to it. Brows furrowing he repeated the name aloud, sounding both foreign and familiar as it passed his lips.

"Jaegerjaques Grimmjow," the stranger replied, causing him to whip back and face him only to find the teal haired man shoveling food in his face. Somehow even that didn't seem to subtract from his attractive features. Nobody looked that good. Not even Fabio. At least now he had a name to go along with the face. "You should eat something," he motioned to the plate he'd handed him. "It'll do you good."

The hybrid pushed the food around a bit, finally taking a small bite. Deeming it poison free, he took larger bites, finding himself rather famished. Rather tired too as he finished most of what was set in front of him, still not trusting of the teal haired stranger regarded as Grimmjow, but his mind fogged over with sleep and suddenly he found himself not giving a shit.

The young doctor sighed, picking up both plates and dumping them in the sink, returning to shift Ichigo into a more comfortable sleeping position. He headed off to his bedroom to retrieve a pair of sleep pants and the book he'd currently been indulging in. Wasn't one for television, really.

He ended up spending the next several hours involved in what he was reading, subconsciously stroking his cat when she settled herself into his lap. It really had been quite a while since he'd last had time off. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Jolting awake at the sound of his phone going off, Grimmjow grumbled to himself, not having been aware he'd fallen asleep. Glancing at the caller ID he found himself scowling as Szayel flashed across his screen over and over. He just shut the damned thing off, tossing it aside as he stretched, grabbing his glasses off the side table before heading back out into the living room. The hybrid was still fast asleep, but he hadn't really been expecting much else after taking such a beating.

He'd have to ask about it the next time he was awake. The last name Kurosaki had rung a bell though, recognizing it as the small clinic several towns over that sent their patients to the hospital he worked at and several others when they couldn't take care of them. Given that the hybrid looked to be in his early twenties and was several towns away, he assumed the young man had moved out. Maybe gone to college somewhere nearby. He'd have to find someone to call too.

Though he had to admit, the first time he'd gotten a good look at Kurosaki's face without the caked on blood and dirt, he was certainly glad he'd picked him up. At 26, it had been several years since he'd taken an interest in anybody, medical school taking up all his time in his hurry to graduate. Work dominating his time immediately after as he was hired at a fairly well known hospital. Sure he'd had time to look, but even if he had found someone he was even remotely interested in, it wasn't like he had a lot of time to pursue it what with doctor hours being what they were.

He definitely liked the fire in this one, he thought to himself as he sat at the edge of the pullout couch, faintly rubbing an orange cat ear. So easy to tease and a quick temper made for a good potential bantering partner. The hybrid certainly wasn't opposed to voicing his opinion if he'd learned anything so far.

There was no way someone this attractive wasn't taken though. He hardly knew him anyways, so he knew he shouldn't expect anything to come of this, though a romp in the sheets when the other was well enough was a nice thought at least.

Mentally smacking himself at his stupidly naïve thoughts, he stood back up to busy himself in the kitchen with cleaning all the dishes he'd used earlier. He'd probably have to go grocery shopping later if he was going to feed both himself and an injured young man. Fortunately he had enough sitting around to feed them for the night so he wouldn't have to go out until tomorrow. Or he could just order out. He was feeling rather lazy at the moment, wanting nothing more than to go back and finish his book.

Poptart tossed a toy across the floor as he passed her, setting a couple towels in the bathroom in case his guest decided to shower. He'd probably want to get the rest of the dirt and grime off at some point or other. He also set out another pair of the smallest clothes he owned along with some extra bandages, knowing they'd have to be replaced afterwards.

Double checking that everything was set out and done, he made his way back to his bedroom and opened the laptop sitting on his desk. There wouldn't be much in his email seeing as he was on 'vacation', but he had a habit of checking anyway. Most of it was spam from dating sites and penis enlargement companies. The occasional Victoria's Secret coupon because he was so clearly interested in lingerie.

The image of himself wandering around in a thong made him shudder and he quickly exited out and shut the lid.

Leaning back in his chair he sighed, staring at the ceiling. He had no idea what to do with all this free time on his hands. Normally he was working his ass off at the hospital, the building overflowing with people. Not that he enjoyed pulling toy cars out of people's asses, it just gave him something to do during the day.

Meandering back into the kitchen to make lunch, he found Poptart waiting for him up on the island counter. She immediately jumped down and waited by her bowl. "You're going to get fat," he muttered to her, filling up the bowl once again with tuna. She just mewed at him in response, full attention turning to her bowl.

Feeling rather lazy he pulled out sandwich material, making several before starting to devour his own and setting the rest on the coffee table for the hybrid to eat when he woke up again. He also brought out a glass of water, the clink on the table causing the young man's ears to twitch, opening his eyes half way to see what was going on.

He wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but the sight of food had his stomach rumbling. Sitting up carefully, he found himself staring at the stranger yet again. The glasses currently situated on his face hadn't been there before and...Jesus they made him look so much hotter. The half a sandwich hanging from his mouth however, made the whole thing humorous and he couldn't stop a small snort.

Grimmjow just raised a brow at the sound, letting go of the glass and standing up straight, finishing off the sandwich as he watched the hybrid pick at the plate. "That's made for eating."

Ichigo scowled at him. "I know what it's for, jack ass. I'm making sure it's not poisoned."

Picking up another half a sandwich off the plate, the teal haired man shoved it in his mouth and replied, "If I wanted to poison you I could have done while you were passed out on my couch. Seeing as you're awake and I'm not dead you should be ok."

Watching him warily, the orange haired young man picked up the other half and started eating himself. He watched as the strange, supposed doctor sat in one of the nearby chairs, staring at him a long moment before asking, "You got anybody I can call?"

Shrugging, Ichigo continued to shove sandwiches in his mouth. "If I do they're probably listed in my phone."

"If?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair. If in situations like this never indicated anything good. Again he was met with a shrug, scowl crossing his face. "What do you mean if?"

"What the fuck do you think it means," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Lifting the bandage to check the wound again, "What else don't you remember."

Hissing as his head throbbed he said, "I dunno. A lot I guess."

"And this didn't come up because?"

"I figured it was normal, considering I feel like I have hole in my head."

It didn't look like he had a concussion, but the amnesia definitely wasn't a good sign either. Running a hand through his hair, the doctor sighed and told the young man to go take a shower. It would get rid of the rest of the dirt and he could get a better look. He sat back in the chair as he waited for the young man to come back, thoughts drifting off.

Ichigo managed to stand up and make it to the bathroom without incident, a small pile of clothes and bandages waiting for him on the sink counter. Closing the door behind him he carefully stripped down and removed the bandages, tossing them into the garbage. He examined himself in the mirror, several bruises and cuts lining his body, some closed up with stitches. It seemed like his entire torso was covered in black and blue, blood still clinging to his hair and the edges of his wounds.

He scowled at himself before turning on the water and stepping in. Immediately his wounds began to sting as he watched all the dirt swirl down the drain. Carefully washing around his stitches, he hesitated when it came to his head wound. It took longer, but he managed to wash all the dirt out without getting any soap into the wound.

Turning the water off and stepping out of the shower he slowly and carefully dried off before wrapping the towel around his waist, staring at the fresh bandages. He couldn't see some of his wounds so he'd have to have his asshole of a 'doctor' wrap them for him. He scowled at the thought.

Double checking that his towel was secure, he picked everything up and brought it with him back to the living room. Grimmjow glanced over to the hallway the young man had come out of and couldn't help but stare. Even with all the bruises and stitches the young man was in no way unattractive. Lean muscle all around.

His attention was brought back by a small cough and he raised a brow at the supplies still in the young man's hands. "Those were in there so you could keep yourself from bleeding to death."

"I can't see my back, asshole," he scowled.

Rolling his eyes he put his hand out for the bandages, motioning for Ichigo to sit down in front of him as he set to work, checking the healing process as he wrapped them all up. The cuts and bruises would be fine in a couple weeks, and the head wound didn't look quite so bad now that all the dirt, grime, and blood had been washed away.

The hybrid couldn't help but hiss and growl as all his injuries were poked and prodded at yet again. Doctor or not, he was pretty sure the guy was just messing with him at this point.

"You'll live," the guy said as he finished wrapping up his head, handing him the bottle of ibuprofen again. "You should lay back down though. Can't have you up and about too much at this point."

Scowling at him, the orange haired young man made his way back to the couch only to find a black blob of fur right in the middle. And it was staring at him. Cautiously moving towards it, he held his hand out for the animal to sniff.

"Play nice, Poptart," Grimmjow said, packing everything away.

Suddenly resisting the urge to laugh, the young man thought to himself, Poptart? He'd named his cat Poptart? This sadistic, teal-haired supposed doctor had named his cat _Poptart_?

Grimmjow glanced up a moment later, everything safely put away and out of the reach of his rather violent and curious cat. "What's so funny?" he asked, frown crossing his features, watching as Poptart started rubbing her face against the young man's hand. That was strange. Poptart didn't like usually like _anybody_.

"You named your cat Poptart? What? Did you name your bunny slippers too?" smirk crossing his face as he picked the cat up, placing her on his lap. She started to purr as he pet her, rolling onto her back to enjoy herself.

"Yes, because Strawberry is so much better," he replied, rolling his eyes, giving his cat a strange look. She wouldn't even do that for him, why the hell was she so enthralled with this complete stranger?

"Strawberries are a delicious part of the food pyramid. Poptarts make you fat. I've been set up for success where as you've just doomed your cat to a life of obesity," he paused. "Is it an American breed by any chance?"

"No, why?"

"Because if she was, she would be screwed either way."

"Well then it's a good thing she doesn't like poptarts."

"Really? I thought all cats liked fruit. Even if it didn't taste like it."

"Well then Poptart here is the exception," he replied, pulling his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose. He'd forgotten to take them off when he examined Ichigo's wounds, straining his eyes more when they had to focus up close around his glasses. Standing up to head back into his bedroom he told the hybrid, "I don't really give a shit what you do so long as you don't break anything. Same goes for you," he pointed at the fluff ball in the young man's lap. She just looked up at him innocently. He gave her a knowing look before heading off.

Ichigo sat there petting Poptart, finally getting a good look around the place. It was rather large for only one person living there, but it was also extremely clean for it belonging to a man. And white. Very white. Did this man ever plan on painting the place? Making it look a little more inviting? He sighed and asked the cat, "How do you put up with him?"

She just mewed.

He sighed again before noticing a cell phone on the table next to his wallet. Assuming it was his he picked it up and started scrolling through his contacts.

Abarai Renji. Arisawa Tatsuki. Chad. Dad. Hat 'n Clogs. Hirako Shinji. Hisagi Shūhei. Hitsugaya Tôshirô. Inoue Orihime. Ishida Uryû. Karin. Kuchiki Byakuya. Kuchiki Rukia. Madarame Ikkaku. Matsumoto Rangiku. Muguruma Kensei. Sarugaki Hiyori. Yoruichi. Yuzu.

It really only made sense to him to call the one he'd labeled 'Dad', so he scrolled back up and hit dial, waiting patiently for his assumed father to pick up. He's almost sure no one's going to answer when the line clicks and a man on the other end yells, "Ichigo, my son! H-"

He doesn't get much farther than that because a very startled, very frightened hybrid quickly drops the call, staring in horror at his phone. That was supposed to be his dad? Couldn't the man answer a phone like a normal person?

Maybe he was just excited, he reasoned. Maybe he hadn't heard from him in a while and had gotten concerned. But as his phone rang, Dad flashing across the screen, he wasn't so sure he wanted to pick it up. Of course, against his better judgment he did, keeping the phone a safe distance away from his ear as he heard yelling from the speaker about how his son must hate him if he was being hung up on. There was certainly a lot of crying.

When he finally managed to calm the man down and got him to stop yelling, all he could bring himself to tell the guy was that he'd missed him and wanted to say hi. More crying ensued and the guy started yelling about how Ichigo was always welcome back home any time.

He'd actually survived living there with a guy like this? What the hell kind of life had he been living?

Making an excuse for being elsewhere, it took him another ten minutes to get the guy to hang up, sighing exasperatedly as he tossed the phone aside, throwing himself back onto the pullout couch.

Poptart settled herself onto his chest, curling up and falling asleep. Ichigo followed suit soon after.

* * *

Sorry. This needed to be rewritten so bad. The previous one made me want to gouge my eyes out, set it on fire, then beat my previous self for ever having brought it into existence.


End file.
